


What Makes A Weasley

by Aelys_Althea



Series: What Makes A Weasley [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Acceptance, Christmas Dinner, Coming Out, F/F, F/M, Gen, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Muggle vs. Wizard, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Multiple Unspecified Relationships, Post-War, Self-Acceptance, family support, possible series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 17:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14958828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aelys_Althea/pseuds/Aelys_Althea
Summary: Though the war is past, battles are still being waged - but of a distinctly different kind. When the opponent is himself rather than Voldemort, Harry realises that there are vastly different kinds of courage and bravery, and that he might have to work on a few of them. It's a good thing he's got so many role models to show him how to do just that.





	What Makes A Weasley

**Author's Note:**

  * For [delacourting](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=delacourting).



> ~Written for the Weasley Jumpers Fest 2018~  
> Thank you to the wonderful mods who have hosted this fest this year! It's such a good idea! And thank you to, my fantastic prompter delacourting - you made my creativity fly! - and to my beta PhoenixInsomnium (again, we managed to pull through eventually :D). I had an absolute blast with this prompt and fest!

"Well," Ron said, then paused. He cleared he throat and reattempted. "Well, that didn't go exactly as I'd thought it would."

Seated on the end of Ron's bed, for a moment Harry couldn't reply. He still felt stunned. Even in the quiet privacy of Ron's room, the confounding turn of events at the dinner table that had ricocheted in a myriad of inexplicable directions and flung confessions still rung in his ears. He could still hear the voices, see the widening eyes, the raised eyebrows, the heads whipping from side to side as first one secret was revealed and then another.

It was… astounding. Harry hadn't been the only one to walk away in something of a stupor.

"I'm, um…"

"You alright?" Ron asked.

Harry felt the mattress sink slightly at his side, the only indication that Ron had shuffled up to his side. Though usually loud, an unmissable presence, Ron had grown somewhat skilled a moving with deliberate slowness over the past months. Or years. It could have been a by-product of the war – some people responded in stranger ways from what Harry had seen – or it could have been because of Harry himself. He didn't know.

For whatever reason, Ron's voice had mellowed to become almost coaxing, somehow gentle when he spoke and when he raised a hand to squeeze Harry's shoulder. The simple support of someone Harry had known for so long, who had been his first friend, managed to stabilise him a little.

"It's not bad," Harry said slowly. "Just surprising."

Ron gave a muted chuckle with just the faintest hint of roughness to it. "Yeah, well, my family's always been a bit weird."

"I don't think they're weird. Just different."

"In a bad way?"

Harry eyed Ron sidelong. "What the bloody hell makes you think it's a bad way?"

Ron stared at him for a moment. Then he chuckled again and this time it has lost its edge. "So this is a good thing, do you reckon? That it's happened?"

Harry nodded. Even in the residual aftermath of his stupefaction he could recognise that the events that had occurred at the dinner table that evening were good. Astounding, certainly, but good.

And scary.

But good. Yes, it was good.

"I reckon so," he murmured, nodding slowly once more. "Yeah, I reckon."

Ron released a sigh that Harry hadn't realised he'd been holding. It carried a breath of relief to it, and it was only then that Harry understood he'd been wary himself of the outcome of the dinner-time calamity.

"That's good," he said, echoing Harry's thoughts. "Yeah, that's really good. For a second there, I thought we'd taken a step in the weird direction just a bit too far for you."

Frowning, his incredulity dying as reality and his wonder of the post-dinner excitement settled, Harry leant towards Ron slightly, bumping their shoulders. "Hey. I love your family. Always have."

Ron smiled a little self-deprecatingly. "Our family, you mean? You're a Weasley too, you know, Harry."

Harry couldn't have withheld his smile if he'd tried. "Yeah. Me too."

It had been a sharp turn of events, a divergence from reality and the understanding that Harry had always had of the world, but he didn't think it was a bad thing. Not at all. If nothing else, that particular 'weirdness' of the Weasley family truly did only make him love them more.

"Me too."

* * *

Barely an hour before, the dining room had been awash in the fervour of Christmas dinner. There was something so pure, so wholesome, so complete about Christmas at the Burrow. Harry loved it. He didn't think he'd ever get enough of it.

It wasn't that there weren't blemishes or absences in the circle of family; Fred's death had left a frayed hole in the overall tapestry that would never be erased, would leave a space where he'd been that would remain despite the rest of the tapestry continuing to grow and extend. There was the weight of a war not yet two years past, the heaviness that dragged upon every pair of shoulders, that had thinned out faces and added lines of age to most, remaining as a constant reminder of the pain and grief that persisted.

Yet the dinner was always bright. It was always… whole. Somehow full and complete, even with vital pieces missing. It was one of the many reasons Harry loved Christmas so dearly these days.

The dining room was far too small to host so many people, the table cramped by bodies squashed into mismatched chairs, but they made do. It was stuffy, far too hot despite the snow falling outside, but not in a bad way. Harry, wedged between Ron and Hermione, hardly needed the new jumper Molly had given him that year all, but he still wore it. He liked that warmth, the comforting heat that echoed the steaming aromas of the food that emanated from the table.

A giant leg of ham, half mauled to pieces, took up primary position in the very centre of the table. A pile of shredded chicken, still steaming, sat along one it, slices of beef in a perfect array on the other. The bowl of breadsticks was reduced to crumbs and the disfavoured end pieces. Platters of cooked vegetables were smothered in garlic and oil. A bowl of mashed potatoes, another of baked, another sliced into chip-like pieces that had been swept nearly empty, all strewn about and half abandoned. Gravy, cranberry sauce, jugs of beer and whiskey and water that was practically untouched. The table groaned beneath the load, protesting the struggle of supporting such a lively crew.

No one noticed. No one cared. Harry barely noticed the spread of food anymore either. It was a little hard to attend to such trivialities, such commonplace circumstances that appeared at Christmas every year, when the sheer wealth of noise – clacking cutlery, scraping plates, clatters of glasses being placed down, and so many voices that it was almost impossible to isolate one conversation – snatched at every sliver of his attention.

"You want another slice of ham, Harry?" Ron asked from his side, his voice raised to almost a shout to be heard and already reaching for the tongs across the table.

Harry didn't get a chance to reply. Alongside Ron, Ginny darted her fingers in first and plucked the tongs from alongside the leg of ham. Ignoring Ron's squawk, she turned to where Luna perched at her side, daintily picking apart a slice of bread and nibbling like a rabbit. "Want some, Luna?"

Luna beamed at Ginny as though she'd just been offered a nest of Gulping Plimpies that only she would find delightful. Her wide smile made a mockery of her petite features but far from discordant she instead seemed to glow just a little in a fashion that was purely Luna.

She didn't seem to notice Ron's indignation any more than Ginny did. "I'd love some! Did you know that ham is my favourite? It's far better than bacon, you know. I've always, always thought that."

Alongside Luna, Fleur, as tall, straight-backed, and beautifully regal as ever, spared her a raised eyebrow but didn't otherwise comment on Luna's enthusiasm. When Luna plucked the proffered hand from Ginny's tongs with her fingers, however, she turned deliberately towards Bill on her other side and dove back into whatever conversation they'd been having.

Alongside Bill, Arthur was using a chicken bone as a toothpick, his floppy hat perched just a little askew atop his head. Charlie, a little further around the table and almost directly opposite Harry, had his head tossed back as he bellowed with laughter, cheeks reddened from either amusement or intoxication to the degree that his dense freckles were nearly vanished. At his side, his friend from Romania – a blond man with a quiet smile who Charlie called Flav – ducked his head to hide his own merriment.

George was taking a swig of beer next to Flav, head tipped back and chugging, and he almost choked when Lee Jordan at his side flipped the end of his glass up higher in a teasing nudge. Lee guffawed at his own humour, shaking his curly head, and his merriment didn't lessen when George slammed down his glass and caught his in an almost violent headlock. Percy, seated alongside Lee, regarded their tussle with what Harry thought was disdain, before turning himself towards his girlfriend Audrey's side and almost completely away from Lee in his seat to face her.

Not that Audrey seemed to notice. In Harry's opinion, she seemed far too engrossed with Teddy in his high-chair at her side, smiling sweetly and cooing in a manner that was a little sickly but that Teddy seemed to be enjoying. He'd mimicked her mousy-brown hair and sharp brows to a T.

For herself, Teddy's grandmother Andromeda seemed nothing if not content to allow Audrey to fuss over him. Deep in conversation with Molly at her side, she was nodding emphatically, eyes wide, before gesturing vaguely over her shoulder as if at a distant disagreement. "But that's what I've always thought," Harry heard her say, to Molly's similarly vigorous nodding. "You never do know unless people come out and say what they're thinking frankly, yes?"

"Harry," Hermione said from Molly's other side, tapping Harry with a gentle prod. "Can you pass the gravy, please?"

Harry dragged his attention back to the moment. He'd become lost in the noise of conversation, the bright smiles, the laughing exchanges and the casual contact that seemed to vibrate and ripple around the circumference of the table like a Newton's Cradle. It wasn't the first time that night he'd been distracted, and it most likely wouldn't be the last.

"Oh, sorry," he said, and reached across Ron where he was all but wrestling with a Ginny for the tongs.

Hermione accepted the gravy with a grateful smile before tipping her head curiously. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"What?"

"You seem distracted or something."

Harry shrugged. It wasn't that he was necessarily distracted any more than he usually was – or what was usual for Christmas dinners, for even as he'd grown to love them they still left him a little jarred by how different they'd been to his childhood teatimes – but that he couldn't help studying each member of the table for some reason. Or for one particular reason. He wondered…

Glancing at Ron sidelong, he somehow managed to catch his eye as Ron finally snatched the tong's out of Ginny's grasp, leaving both she and Luna dissolving into laughter with Luna's exclaimed, "I bet you didn't even want any anyway!" to Ginny. Ron paused in reaching for the ham to raise an eyebrow at him, but Harry only shook his head.

They hadn't decided. They hadn't made any solid decisions to admit their mutual, future plans that evening. Those plans had been a secret for months, and it was only with Harry's increasing discomfort at keeping them a secret that he felt the need to share them. After all, he didn't like keeping secrets from Molly and Arthur, or from the rest of the Weasleys. It made the awkwardness – and potential terror – of his abrupt news all the worse to bring up.

As a result, Harry was stalling. He knew he was. He busied himself with filling his plate then barely ate a bite of what he knew would be one of the best meals of his life, as Molly's cooking always was. He made small talk with Charlie across the table, with Flav in a struggle to discern the words through his thick accent, and Ron and Hermione on either side of him. When George called a toast that had initiated his drinking for the evening, he'd raised his own glass, and when Bill had bestowed the story of his and Fleur's struggle to convince Fleur's parents to allow them to have Christmas at the Burrow that year, he'd laughed along with the rest of them.

But it was still awkward. Really awkward. And apparently Hermione had noticed, which wasn't as surprising as Harry thought it perhaps should have been. Hermione had grown remarkably and quietly perceptive over the years. She noticed far more than what was provided to her on the written pages of a book.

"What's up?" Ron asked, snapping up a serving of ham.

Harry only shook his head. He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a call across the table from Molly in Charlie's direction. "Tell us, though, Charlie. Andromeda and I were curious."

Her words were loud enough that all but Bill and Fleur – and a distracted Arthur as he continued to pick at his teeth and frown at the chicken bone when he extracted it from his mouth – glanced towards her, if not quite ceasing their own conversations.

"What's that, Mum?" Charlie asked, still chuckling in the aftermath of whatever had triggered his joviality. He wiped his eyes as he glanced at Flav before turning towards his Molly.

"We were only saying," Andromeda said, her own voice rising as she leant slightly across the table, "that it's ever-so hard to keep up with what's happening with your children when they're abroad. I know it was for me when –" she paused, stuttered briefly, and immediately changing the direction of her words. "A letter does little good, really, does it?"

"It most certainly does not," Molly said, disapproval thick in her voice. Across the table, Harry saw Percy shake his head with a slight roll of his eyes.

Andromeda nodded firmly. "So, tell us. What have you been up to?"

"I," Charlie began.

"What happened to that dragon you said you were treating for worms?" Molly interrupted. "What breed was it again?"

"It was –"

"Did you take a trip down to that little town again, Charlie," Ginny asked, interrupting him herself. "The one that made the snow cakes?"

"Oh, they were delicious," Luna said, clapping her hands. "Ginny shared the ones you sent."

Charlie opened his mouth to reply again, but it appeared that Molly and Andromeda's initiation had opened the floodgates for questioning that hadn't yet had the time to arise. As he watched, Harry couldn't blame the Weasleys for the sudden torrent; Charlie's work was kind of fascinating, after all.

"How did that visit for the accreditation go?" Percy asked. "Was the attendant as disagreeable as last time?"

"Did anyone get eaten when he was there?" Lee asked. "That would have been awesome. Suck for your accreditation, but still. Awesome."

"Oh, did you manage to get a reading on that Fireball's highest temp?" George asked. "I was going to try and replicate hotter with a Mimicry Charm for the shop and wanted to know if it's worth making a visit."

"How many dragons were hatched last season?"

"Oh, yes, did that pretty marble-coloured one you talked about hatch this year?"

"You said Con was going to give you a pay rise, didn't you? He came through with that, right?"

"How's Norberta going?"

"Did you –?"

"How was -?"

"Can we -?"

Questions were flung left and right, and Harry could only pity Charlie a little – though Charlie didn't appear to need pitying. He opened his mouth at each question asked of him, but another was spoken so quickly in succession that he hadn't the time to utter a reply. At his side, Flav leant back in his chair, small smile settling once more, and shook his head as his gaze drifted from speaker to speaker.

"Did you get moved into that new accommodation?" Bill asked, drawn from his conversation with Fleur for the communal shift in the table's attention. "That was a bit of a debacle, wasn't it? It took them a while to construct. Who're you rooming with?"

"I would assume 'e would be with Flaviu," Fleur said, gesturing to Flav. "Yes? 'Ow do you know one another?"

As often happened when Fleur spoke – for even after years of Weasley company she still had Veela magic that held the power to spellbind – the table momentarily paused in its flurry. It was long enough for Charlie to slip in a reply. Hooking an arm around Flav's shoulders, he grinned. "He's actually my partner."

The pause that followed wasn't because of Fleur this time. Eyes blinked. Heads glanced at one another. Harry felt momentarily confused, and Hermione echoed his thoughts with a question. "Partner's at work?"

Charlie shook his head. "Nah, we've been dating for about – what, eight months now?"

Harry dropped his fork.

It clattered resoundingly onto his plate, but no one seemed to notice. Or if they did, their attention was too distracted by Charlie. And Flav. Charlie and Flav, who were… dating?

"Wait, so you're…?" George asked, finger sweeping between the both of them.

Charlie's smile didn't waver even slightly. He nodded. "Yeah. Sorry, I wanted to tell everyone in person, so we decided to wait until Christmas."

Another pause for a lull, and Harry could only stare. He was detachedly aware that his breath had hitched and frozen, that his gut was clenching in rising horror, and memories from the past welled within his mind. Words like _faggot_ and _fairy_ that Dudley had used, tossed around as less of an accusation and more simply to do damage. The disgust on his uncle Vernon's face, Petunia's thinned lips when the topic arose, the discomfort and ostracism of that one boy in Harry's fifth grade class, Timothy Sneddon, who acted just a little too distinctly effeminate…

Christmas was supposed to be happy. Topics like that – they shouldn't arise. Even if Harry didn't have an issue with such things himself, didn't think it was necessarily _bad_ or _wrong_ , he knew the world did. He'd grown up in a household that deemed it sin. How Charlie could sit there so easily and announce –

"Oh, that's wonderful, dear!"

Almost jumping in his seat, Harry snapped his attention towards Molly where she'd leapt to her feet. Beaming broadly, she bustled around the table to wrap Charlie in an embrace from behind. "I'm so pleased to hear. Flav, welcome to our family. You must be a very special person if you've caught Charlie's attention."

"Thank you," Flav said, leaning slightly into Charlie. "You have all been very welcoming to me."

Harry couldn't move. He couldn't help but stare at Molly as she planted a kiss on the side of Charlie's head and gushed words like "never been interested in anyone much" and "so happy for you both".

"Well, I suppose that explains the company," Percy said as though a riddle had just been solved. His expression was solemn, which wouldn't have been uncharacteristic of him except that he was nodding approvingly at Flav at the same time. "Don't take it to heart, Flaviu. You've no obligation to marry Charlie, regardless of how excitable Mum is."

Flav only spared him a smile, but Charlie chuckled. "I prepared him," he said. "We expected Mum to be excited."

"I'm allowed to be happy for my boy," Molly said. She didn't seem even slightly put-out by Percy's precaution.

Murmurs flowed around the table, but they weren't hushed and cautious. They weren't derisive, and far from noses wrinkling in disdain or disgust, smiles rapidly spread and eyes brightened. Harry could still barely move – though from shock or otherwise he wasn't sure – but he managed to glance at Hermione sidelong.

For herself, Hermione was similarly rendered mute. Her likeminded stupor was somehow comforting for Harry; he knew she didn't disapprove either, that she wouldn't, but they'd both been raised in a world that shunned those of less typical sexuality. As though feeling his stare, she darted her eyes towards him in return. They were a little wide, her mouth hanging open just slightly, and her fork forgotten in her hand.

"See? I told you. That's just how our world works, you know?"

Shaken, Harry drew his stare instead towards Ron. Ron, who was smiling himself, though for Charlie or otherwise Harry wasn't quite sure. He was nodding as though in agreement with himself and when he continued his words were nearly lost beneath the rising excitement around them. "I don't really get why Muggles have such a problem with it, but see? No one here cares, Harry."

Harry couldn't reply. He didn't know what to say, what to admit in the face of the evidence he saw, but he didn't get a chance to even if he'd had an idea. He couldn't, for Ginny was abruptly rising from her seat and planting her hands upon the table as she leant towards Charlie.

"Wait, so you're gay?" she said flatly. "You're actually, definitely gay?"

Harry couldn't withhold his flinch. So crass. Her question wasn't accusatory but was still so blunt. His breath caught again –

But Charlie grinned his wide, toothy smile. He knocked his head against Flav's affectionately. "Yeah, I reckon. Why's that, Gin?"

The murmurs at the table died slightly as Ginny frowned, straightening to plant a hand on her hip. "Well, dammit," she said, dropping her gaze down to Luna who watched her absently as she continued to pick her bread apart. "I was hoping to be the first one to come out about it but…"

It was a good thing Harry had already dropped his fork. He likely would have done so again had he still been holding it. Eyes wide, he stared at Ginny as she grumbled to herself, watched as Luna patted her elbow in fond commiseration. _Wait, so she's…? Does that mean that she's…?_

"You're… dating Luna, Ginny?" Hermione asked slowly. She was leaning so far forward in her seat to peer around Harry and Ron that her hair all but dipped into the gravy on her plate. Incredulity radiated from her, her words thick with enough audible shock that Ginny glanced her way.

But Ginny didn't seem perturbed. Neither did Luna, for that matter, for they both nodded immediately. "For almost a whole year now," Ginny said.

Another lull met her words. Then, after only a murmured, "Well, I'll be," from Andromeda, Molly all but shrieked as she bustled around the table once more. "Oh, Ginny! I'm so happy for you!" She planted a sloppy kiss on Ginny's cheek this time before turning to Luna and smothering her in a hug that Luna accepted without a hint of resistance. "I should have known you'd found someone else. There would surely be no other reason you wouldn't be dating Harry anymore, now, would there?"

Harry was so stunned he barely heard Molly's words. He barely heard as Andromeda laughed in a tinkling chuckle either, or when Charlie laughed himself and muttered, "Guess it runs in the family a bit?" He was only detachedly aware when every other person immediately started throwing words at one another.

"I _knew_ Luna had been around more often lately."

"They've been practically joined at the hip since sixth year."

"Sorry, Harry. No offence, mate, but I guess you didn't have a chance after all."

Harry didn't know who said that last but he didn't really care. He was, admittedly, in something of a state of shock. Ginny was… gay? Or – no, girls were termed lesbians, weren't they? He knew so little of that world, of its terms, and had dared to learn next to nothing, but he was pretty sure that was right. So Ginny was a lesbian? Or bisexual? That was what it was when people fancied both boys and girls, wasn't it?

Harry was stunned. He didn't know why, shouldn't have cared as he and Ginny truly hadn't been dating for years, but he was. Ron eyed him silently, lips pursed, but it was to Hermione that Harry turned. Her eyes had only widened further with Ginny's announcement and her mouth along with it.

"I should have guessed it," George announced abruptly, voice loud over the murmured exchange of conversations. "Should've guessed."

"What's that, George?" Arthur asked, turning from where he'd risen to stand next to Molly behind Ginny.

"So typical." George clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "You always did copy your older brothers, didn't you, Ginny?"

"Liking or not liking has nothing to do with copying," Ginny said sharply, her hand dropping once more to her hip despite that Molly had shifted her embrace from Luna to her instead. "Besides, I didn't even know that Charlie –"

"Would it be poor timing," George interrupted, sweeping the table with a glance, "to confess that Lee and me have been dating for nearly three years?"

Another pause. Harry definitely would have dropped his fork this time. Again. Then a clamour exploded.

"What?" Ginny barked. "Since when?"

"George, why didn't you tell me, dear?" Molly asked, rounding the table once more with a bouncing step. She was practically glowing with delight.

"I could 'ave guessed zat," Fleur said, nodding knowingly. "Did I not speculate of zee kind, Bill?"

"You did," Bill replied.

"You're… you're gay as well?" Percy asked, eyebrows arched so high up his forehead that they nearly disappeared into his hairline.

"I believe the correct term is bisexual, right, George?" Lee asked, rocking back in his chair to accept a kiss on his forehead from Molly and a handshake from Arthur as he followed in Molly's bustling wake. "You fancied Angelina for a couple of years before me, didn't you?"

"Angelina's way outta my league," George said, sweeping his half-finished beer from the table and taking a swig.

"Oh, and I'm not?" Lee said, pouting, though the way his lips trembled it was apparent he was fighting the urge to laugh.

George shook his head as he swallowed thickly. "Nope," he said, then flashed his teeth in a grin. "You're perfect."

Which, naturally, provoked another upwelling of raucous chatter.

"Sap," Ginny said with a smile, sinking into her seat but somehow also into Luna's lap in a way that was entirely natural.

"See, I told you?" Fleur said with a knowing nod, and Bill only laughed.

"I think if anyone's 'copying', George, then it would be you of me," Charlie said, reaching around Flav to poke George's shoulder.

"Are your Christmas dinner's always so excitable?" Audrey asked Percy.

Harry slumped back into his seat and felt Hermione do the same at his side. Audrey was right in asking, and Harry almost wanted to know the answer himself despite living through most of the Weasley Christmases over the past few years. It was nothing short of shocking, but even more astounding because Harry realised he should have expected it.

Ron had said months ago when the subject had somehow arisen that witches and wizards didn't really have any disapproval of same-sex relationships. None at all. More than that, the Weasleys were one of the most family-oriented and communal cluster of people that Harry had ever met. He should have expected them to be nothing but utterly delighted, just as Molly was vibrantly demonstrating, even if the Wizarding world had carried the same disapproval as the Muggle one.

But it was still shocking.

"I don't…" Harry began but trailed off.

"I know," Hermione said at his side in barely a whisper.

"You two alright?" Ron asked, leaning into Harry and tipping his head slightly to peer up at his face before glancing towards Hermione. "You're not… It doesn't weird you out?"

Harry had to drag his gaze from where Molly seemed to be attempting to squeeze the life out of George, where Ginny was cackling as she rocked backwards into Luna, where Charlie dropped his chin absently onto Flav's shoulder. "Weird?"

"You look like you're about to hurl," Ron said through a half smile that seemed a little rueful. "Is it that bad?"

Harry immediately shook his head. "No," he said. "Not bad, not… It's not bad. Just surprising."

"And unexpected," Hermione whispered, staring at Charlie and Flav in open wonder.

"Yeah. Unexpected."

"Muggles don't really –"

"Yeah, they don't –"

"Not at all, actually. I haven't met anyone who… who's really…" She trailed off and turned to Harry. "Have you?"

Harry shook his head. He'd never in his life met someone so openly out and comfortable with admitting their preferences, and here was a table of people he loved who did so as if it was no trouble in the world. What was more surprising was that, for all their openness, they'd kept silent for so long. How had Harry not known? How hadn't he noticed something?

"Why didn't you tell me, George?" Molly asked as though echoing Harry's thoughts. She spared a glance for Ginny and Charlie too. "Or either of you two, for that matter."

"Um." George attempted to gasp through her choking embrace. "Wanted it to be a surprise? Or something?"

"'Cause it's not really anyone else's business unless we want it to be, right, Luna?" Ginny said, glancing at Luna over her shoulder.

"For me, it was just that I didn't want to tell everyone through a letter. Besides, better to introduce you guys to Flav first and make sure you don't send him running."

"Never," Flav said easily. Which, naturally, had Molly flinging herself towards Charlie and his boyfriend to smother them in embraces once more.

"Ah, the Christmas spirit," Harry heard Andromeda sigh. A glance her way found her wearing a wistful smile, her hand resting atop Teddy's head as he continued to pick obliviously at what remained of his dinner. "Don't you find it lovely, Audrey?"

Audrey hummed, nodding. "What better time for surprises, really."

"Certainly." Raising her voice slightly, Andromeda addressed the room at large. "I don't suppose anyone else has anything they'd like to share? Any hidden romances? Please, do tell."

Could Harry have sunken beneath the table without attracting attention he would have. Definitely when a hush fell over the entire table once more, when Ron eyed him in blatant question and Hermione flicked him a glance before darting that same glance almost apprehensively around the table.

A quiet, a pause – and then Percy cleared his voice. "Well. Ahem. I suppose now might be a good time to admit that Audrey and I aren't actually dating one another."

Utter silence met his words and not a person moved but to turn towards him. Then to Audrey as a collective whole. Then back to Percy.

Molly was the one who shattered it. "What?" she all but snapped, though it was uncertain whether from surprise or anger.

Percy's cheeks reddened just slightly, and though he made to reply, Audrey stopped him with a hand rested onto his arm. She offered him a gentle smile before turning that smile towards Molly and Arthur planted behind Charlie's chair. "I'm sorry we kept the truth to you both. It was only that circumstances had us needing to hide Percy's situation a little."

"His situation?" Arthur asked, edging along the table to stand behind Percy. He frowned in a surprisingly thunderous show of concern, hand clasping onto Percy's shoulder. "What's wrong, Percy? Are you alright? Have you gotten into some trouble?"

Percy's cheeks were rapidly darkening to a startling flush. "It's nothing bad, Dad," he said in what was the closest thing to a mumble Harry had ever heard from him. He, unlike his brothers and sister, seemed actually embarrassed to be the centre of attention.

"Well, what it _is_ isn't bad," Audrey said, patting his arm. "The situation's still pretty horrible, Perce."

"What is?" Molly asked, hastening up behind Percy. Her own cheeks, flushed with excitement, were rapidly paling. With it, the entire room seemed to darken into ominous sobriety, the good-humour extinguished. "Percy, what's wrong?"

Silence. Utter silence spread across the table, barely interrupted by a breath. Percy shifted slightly in his seat, gaze downcast to his plate. When he finally spoke, his voice quavered just slightly. "My b-boyfriend… He's a half-blood, and his father isn't particularly accepting of him, so…"

"Unfortunately, they were noticed by Oliver's father, so we had to make up a lie to cover for them," Audrey explained with a sad little smile. "It was only by chance that I happened to be on hand, so." She shrugged.

"Wait." Ginny jerked up straight in her seat. "You're Percy's beard?"

Harry didn't know what that was, didn't understand the term, but Audrey clearly did. "Essentially," she said with a nod. "The theatrics just got a little out of hand."

"So out of hand you felt you had to bring it here?" Molly asked. She had eyes only for Percy, who still hadn't looked up from his plate. Once, his withdrawal would have been uncharacteristic of him, but this reserved version of him wasn't so far from the Percy Harry had grown familiar with in the years following the war. He couldn't help but empathise; it looked decidedly uncomfortable to be in his shoes at that moment.

"Lies are better maintained when they're enacted in every situation," Audrey said, the mouthpiece for what Percy couldn't voice. "Sorry about that, Molly. I've always enjoyed coming over to visit you nonetheless."

She smiled at Molly, her plain features made sorrowfully pretty for it, and Molly seemed unable to withhold an instinctive smile in response. It was to Percy she drew towards, however, wrapping her arms around him in a distinctly different embrace to that she'd forced upon George and what she'd smothered Ginny with.

Silence. More silence. Harry stared at Percy and couldn't help but feel for him. His boyfriend – a term that Harry had only recently been growing capable of accepting in relation to another man – came from a disapproving family, and Percy was caught up in it. Harry might come from a society that actively shunned homosexuals, but he'd never been subjected to it himself, despite Dudley's accusations of 'faggot' and 'fairy'. It had all been taunts anyway. But Percy –

"Wait a second." Lee suddenly lurched forwards, his chair slamming onto all fours from where he'd been paused in the midst of rocking backwards. "Audrey, you said Oliver. Do you mean -?"

"Hold on, Oliver _Wood_?" George interrupted. He'd been in the slow process of refilling his glass from the jug of beer, but his sudden start had it sloshing and splattering across the table and the chicken bowl. No one cared.

For a brief pause, no one spoke either. Then, as Percy finally raised his gaze and met George's wide-eyed stare, his cheeks flushing a different kind of red this time, the table exploded.

"What?" Ginny spluttered. "You're dating Wood?"

"Why the bloody hell didn't you tell us?" George said, lurching to his feet.

"Oliver?" Molly asked, sharing a glance with Arthur. "Oliver Wood, did he say?"

"No bloody way," Ron blurted out, gaping at Percy.

"The little kid who was Keeper on the team in the last few years I was at school?" Charlie asked.

"Not so little anymore, I'll bet," George said overloudly with an exaggerated and distinctly suggestive wink towards Percy. "Eh, Perce? Eh? Eh?"

Percy likely couldn't have flushed redder if he'd painted his face with rouge. His back rigidly straight, he narrowed his eyes. "Yes. So what? Do you have a problem with that?"

The excitement that erupted thereafter put the previous sorrow of the moment to shame. Exclamations, claps on backs both to Percy and every other person that George – who Harry was realising was rather drunk – could get his hands on. Fleur's murmured, "I per'aps could 'ave guessed that too," and Bill's, "Good on you, mate," offered with a genuine smile.

And Harry was rendered stunned once more. How the entirety of the dinner conversation had descended into such a subject and resulted in such revelations he didn't know. He could barely keep up. _Wait, so now Percy's gay? Or was always gay? And so is Charlie? And Ginny's a lesbian, and George is bisexual and… and…_

"Goodness, it really does seem to run in the family, doesn't it?" Andromeda exclaimed with a bubbling chuckle through the babbling midst of voices. Her eyes crinkled as she smiled at Molly. "Perhaps it's genetics."

"Or not," George said, with a glance towards his parents.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Andromeda said in a sing-song voice, stroking Teddy's head as he smiled up at her through a mouthful of potato. She winked at Molly across the table. "Maybe it's not so unexpected after all."

Bill in particular had been somewhat quiet throughout the entire discussion, but he was as fast as everyone else in snapping his attention towards Molly and Arthur both at Andromeda's entirely unsubtle suggestion. Harry turned as well, all but expecting Arthur's bumbling denials and confusion and Molly's sharply clicking tongue and disregard.

Except that Molly had blushed bright red and Arthur was looking determinedly at nothing.

"Mum!" George said, and though he wasn't even rocking on his chair as Lee had been he nearly toppled over backwards.

"What's this?" Charlie said, incredulity widening his smile this time.

"Is this what you meant when I asked you about your school days?" Bill asked, eyebrows rising. "How you'd rather leave some things in the past? You never did tell us any stories."

"Well," Molly blustered. "Well, I – it's not like I'm… no, it's not that I'm hiding anything or –"

"Mum!" Ginny said in almost the exact same tone as George. Molly only flushed further, ducking slightly behind Percy as though to hide her embarrassment. Percy, far from recovered from his own bout of exposure, covered his face in a hand, though from exasperation, horror, or the same amusement birthed on almost every face at the table in some form or another Harry wasn't sure. Audrey giggled at Percy's side, patting his arm affectionately.

"Shall I tell them, Molly?" Andromeda teased, fingers curling through Teddy's hair. "Oh, what fun! I never got to tell these stories to anyone before."

"Andy," Molly said, sighing as if exasperated, even if her blush said otherwise.

"It was a generational thing," Andromeda said, speaking to the whole table of delighted and horrified attendants. At Harry's side, Ron looked as captivated as he was disconcerted. "I don't think 'pillow sisters' are quite a habit so much these days, are they? Ginny? Hermione?"

Ginny was blubbering between bursts of laughter and stutters and could only shake her head. Hermione looked as though her eyes were going to pop out of her head as she stared t Andromeda. "N…no," she said in barely a croak. "Not… not really."

"Shame," Andromeda said. She winked at Molly again. "What was you sister's name, Molly? Shirley, wasn't it?"

"Sister?" Ginny spluttered. "Merlin, what a horrifying thing to call it!"

"Oh Ginny, pipe down," Molly said sharply, though the force of her words was lost somewhat by her distinct fluster. Harry had never seen her in such discomfort, nearly burying her face in the back of Percy's head. "Andy, I'd rather we didn't bring up such discussions at the dinner table."

"You dog, Mum," George said, actually rocking back on his chair in earnest now. His own incredulous horror had given away to sheer merriment that seemed to have infected Lee too, bent double over his plate in bursts of laughter. "Who knew you were one to get around at school."

"Hardly 'getting around'," Andromeda murmured, but she was overridden by Arthur's stout, "Now, that's enough, George. Don't say such things about your mother."

"There's nothing wrong with promiscuity," Luna said vaguely, drawing more than a few startled gazes her way. Surprisingly, at her side Fleur nodded in contemplative agreement. Ron gaped and Harry felt more than saw Hermione bury her face in her hands in a mimic of Percy's despairing embarrassment.

"Nope, not at all," George said. He was clearly enjoying himself far too much. Harry almost wished to kick him under the table for the awkwardness that seemed to have arisen in everyone save Lee and George himself. And Andromeda, that was; she was humming jovially to herself as she stroked Teddy's head.

"What about you, then, Dad?" George continued, utterly shameless. "Were you a player too?"

"He most certainly was not," Molly said, rearing from where she'd been hiding. In the same breath, Arthur was agreeing almost identically with a flat, "No, as a matter of fact, I wasn't."

"Aw, no fun." George grinned at his parents, then at Charlie who only rolled his eyes, and Bill who shook his head with a small smile. "You were a prude, were you, Dad?"

"I'll ask you to stop with the disrespect, George," Arthur said, then paused for a minute to eye George pointedly before continuing with, "and for your information, I never had eyes for anyone but your mother."

George's chair thudded down onto all fours. "What? Ever?"

"Never."

"You mean you never shagged -?"

"George!" Molly snapped, echoed by Ginny, "Yeah, George, shut up! I don't need that kind of mental image."

Arthur was apparently oblivious to their distress. He shook his head stoutly. "Not at all. I was never interested in anyone other but your mother."

George's smile slowly died to be replaced by the same raised eyebrows and parted lips as everyone else at the table. Harry felt like he was an audience member to am utterly confusing performance, and even more so when he caught Charlie and Flav exchange a glance and a nod.

"Maybe it really is genetic," Charlie murmured quietly but loudly enough to be heard through the silence that had fallen like a blanket over the table.

"Maybe," Bill said. "Is this speaking from experience, Charlie?"

As one, like a sea of sunflowers turning towards the light, faces flicked once more towards Charlie. It really was like a stage show, Harry thought, caught up in the act himself. He could only stare as Charlie shrugged then nodded. "Sort of. Not the same, but sort of. I consider myself ace, so it's maybe not quite the same as Dad, but –"

"Ace?" Hermione asked, somehow managing to stutter a single word.

"Asexual," Ron explained before anyone else could jump in.

Hermione stared at him, then at Charlie. Her eyes widened impossibly further. "What, you can -? You can reproduce independent of -?"

"No," Charlie interrupted her, shoulders shaking slightly in a silent laugh. "Merlin, no, nothing like that. Not the Muggle scientific term, Hermione. It just means not… How should I put this…"

"He doesn't really get turned on," George said bluntly. He didn't seem even slightly concerned when Molly cuffed him over the back of the head. Whatever delight she'd felt for his and Lee's relationship announcement appeared to have quickly died.

Charlie didn't seem perturbed in the slightest. He only shrugged. "Yeah, basically."

"That's a thing?" Hermione asked.

"A thing?"

"You can be – not, um…"

"Physically or sexually attracted to someone," Ginny provided.

"Yeah, like…" Hermione trailed off, staring at Charlie unblinkingly.

Charlie only shrugged again and nodded. "Apparently so. I guess I am."

"Probably a little bit genetic, then," Lee said. He grinned at Arthur and Molly both. "You've gifted your kids with good genes, it seems. Or at least from my perspective."

Molly's flush was dying, and she'd composed herself enough to reply, then to redirect her questioning to Charlie about this new discovery and congratulate him on finding and understanding himself just a little bit more. Ginny appeared to have progressed into something utterly delighted, rocking into Luna's shoulder and chattering animatedly. Arthur was edging back towards his seat, exchanging a word with Bill as he passed him, and even Percy had pulled himself from the shield of his hands to talk to Audrey.

For himself, Harry was stunned and confused all over again. Gay, lesbian, bisexual, asexual… Pillow sisters and promiscuity, boyfriends and girlfriends, genetic components and considerations of something that he'd barely allowed himself to think about growing up because it was deemed 'taboo'. It always had been in his eyes; it was difficult to grow up with the Dursleys and think anything other.

He felt out of his depth and apparently something in his silence admitted as much, for Ron leant towards him with surprising consideration and, in a lowered voice, murmured, "You alright?"

Always asking. Always checking, as though he knew that Harry was currently experiencing something of a mental breakdown. Or perhaps a mental reconstruction. He struggled to nod, glanced at Hermione who appeared to have become lost in frowning thought, and attempted another nod.

"You look like you're going to hurl," Ron said. "Again."

Harry shook his head.

"You sure? Mum probably has a potion for nerves or whatever."

"No," Harry managed. "No, I'm – it's not that. I'm alright, it's just –"

"Maybe not so genetic," George abruptly announced, snagging the table's communal attention once more. He ignored Molly's glare and huff, the way she planted her hands on her hips as she turned towards him, and pointed towards Bill and Fleur respectively. "Bill's totally boring. You don't get any straighter than those two."

Bill paused in his conversation with Arthur to turn towards George. Then he glanced back to Fleur. "Boring?"

"Well, you did happen to marry just about the prettiest girl on earth," Ginny said, somehow making it seem less a compliment than a begrudging statement of fact.

"You are very pretty," Luna said with a smile for Fleur.

"Of course I am," Fleur said. "I am Veela."

"Cow," Ginny muttered loud enough to be heard but otherwise ignored.

"I don't think we're boring," Bill said slowly, just as slowly sliding his arm around Fleur's waist. "I don't particularly see myself as straight either."

"I always knew you had a secret history you never told us," Charlie said with a chuckle.

"What's this?" George said. He glanced between Charlie and Bill. "Bill, did you…?"

"No, nothing like that," Bill said, smiling easily. He stared at Fleur to the disregard of everyone else at the table to such an extent that Harry found it almost impossible to think he'd ever fancied anyone else in his life. "Just that I don't think I'm straight."

"Yet you married the most girly-girl in the world," Ginny said begrudgingly.

"Thank you," Fleur said, though from her side-eyed glance, Harry thought she might have somehow managed a hint of sarcasm in the otherwise gracious gratitude.

"Unless she's secretly a man," George joked. He laughed at his own wit, sharing a grin with Lee. "What d'you reckon? Are you actually a pretty Veela-boy, Fleur?"

He was drunk. Clearly. Which was likely the only reason that Fleur didn't erupt into the fierce, snapping, winged Veela-rage that her kind were capable of. Nonetheless, she inhaled sharply and reared straight, eyes narrowing, and Bill immediately leant into her ear to whisper quietly as though to soothe her.

Molly, in a show of defensiveness for Fleur that she'd been doing more and more often of late, cuffed George over his head once more. Ignoring his grunted "Mum, again?" she scowled at him. "Enough of that, George. Don't be so rude."

"Is it rude?" Luna asked curiously. "Why is it rude to assume Fleur might be a transwoman?"

Molly's scowl seemed to freeze in place, just as everyone else did when Fleur, rigid and hard-eyed, primly folded her arms across her chest and glared at George. "It is not," she said chillingly. "Not in ze least."

Harry didn't know what that meant. He didn't really understand, just as he barely understood any of the tumultuous events that had struck their Christmas dinner in the past half an hour. He glanced towards Ron, but just like the rest of the family Ron was staring at Fleur with something like blunt confusion that inched slowly towards incredulity.

Ginny slowly straightened in her seat. "Fleur, what… do you mean?"

Fleur flickered her glare towards Ginny and, in spite of the resilience that Ginny usually managed, she flinched slightly away from her. "Is it wrong of me to defend ze dignity of other women? Zey should not be shunned for being born in ze wrong body."

Harry didn't understand. He didn't understand at all. His knowledge of even homosexuality was so limited as to be barely knowledge at all, but transgenderism? He was as lost in the dark as a ship without a lighthouse. Staring at Fleur, however, at how Bill edged slightly towards her to tighten his one-armed embrace, and then turning towards the rest of the table, Harry had to wonder.

Audrey looked confused. Percy was blank-faced and clearly of a similar mind. Andromeda thoughtfully plucked at Teddy's hair and even Teddy appeared to have realised the focus of the table's collective interest, watching Fleur with a fistful of potato raised to his mouth but frozen in the act of eating it. All of them – George, Lee, Charlie, Molly, Arthur, Ginny and Luna, and even Flav who seemed to be largely content to listen without emotional investment to the happenings of the table – watched with focused attentiveness.

Only to be shaken loose when Bill finally spoke. "Moving on," he said over-brightly. "Now that we've got my circumstances sorted – which we have, yes? We have? Good – we'll leave that be."

"Zat would be for ze best," Fleur murmured, still glaring. That in itself was a little strange given that she had distinctly eased in her distancing from the Weasley's over the years. George and Molly's comments had clearly put her nose out of joint.

"Which leaves only our black sheep," Bill continued after her. Ignoring the still unblinking stares, Bill smiled towards Ron. "Who knew you'd be the outlier in our midst, Ron?"

Motion reasserted itself upon the table, rippling with the deliberate motion of disregarding the passing incident. George leant towards Lee and muttered something that had them both shaking their heads and smiling. Flav cocked his head at Charlie and said something that sounded to Harry's ears like Romanian. Audrey was giggling again, and Percy appeared to have regained some of his usual haughtiness. Even Ginny's discomfort seemed to have been placed aside in exchange for regarding Fleur with shrewd consideration before rolling her eyes and glancing at Ron.

"Yeah, Ron, you're so boring," she said, though smiled a moment later to take the sting out of her words. "You're the sole representative of the straight community in this household."

"And what of me?" Andromeda asked. "Are you assuming of me, Ginny?"

"What, so you're straight?"

"I most certainly am not."

"I am," Audrey piped up, raising a hand and fluttering her fingers. "I'll represent the majority."

"Or the minority, as the case may be," Hermione said detachedly.

"Oh yeah, you too Hermione," Ginny said, shooting her a smile. "Sorry."

"Yeah." Hermione sounded like she barely heard her.

"And Harry," George said, and Harry nearly jumped in his seat both at the abrupt address and the nudge against his foot under the table. "Saviour of the Wizarding world and all. It's probably a good thing you're not into blokes, Harry. You still get love letters owled every day, don't you? Imagine how many more you'd get if you swung both ways!"

Chatter and laughter, the flow of motion and sinking back into ease and comfort, reinstated itself at the table. Molly found her seat once more. Fleur deflated and even turned to Bill to offer him a gentle kiss on the cheek. Ginny shuffled until she was sitting completely in Luna's lap, and Audrey returned to fussing over Teddy once more, much to Teddy's delight.

Only Harry, Ron, and Hermione seemed at odds. The urge to sink beneath the table still grasped Harry in its unyielding hold, threatening to yank him from sight whether he wanted to be hidden or not. He felt more discomforted in that moment than he ever had at the Weasley's dinner table, and he wasn't sure what to do about it. It was overwhelming and more than a little baffling because the openness of each admission, the joy it incited, the sincere laughter that followed so quickly after that there was no way if could have been feigned – it was all so different to what Harry had expected.

Until recently, he'd never had to think about the fabled and infamous 'coming out of the closet'. He hadn't thought it applied to him. But now…

Harry glanced at Hermione. She'd abandoned what remained of her dinner, was staring at Charlie fixedly, and her lips moved every so often as though she was talking to herself. Harry didn't know what she was thinking, but it was clearly enthralling her. That in itself was strange; since she and Ron had broken up on remarkably good terms, she'd seemingly had no interest in pursuing any kind of relationship. Yet the eruption at the table had clearly triggered something.

Turning his head just slightly, Harry glanced at Ron instead. Rather in opposition to Harry's nervousness, Ron was staring at Harry intently. His shoulders were a little hunched, his head bowed, but he stared unwaveringly as though he'd been waiting for Harry to glance his way. Maybe he had been. He'd been strangely attentive of late, more attentive than they'd been as best friends, as classmates, as fellow soldiers and Horcrux-hunters. He stared at Harry as though he was waiting for an answer.

Harry was scared. He realised, in the face of Ron's stare, that he was scared. Courage and bravery was something he'd always been labelled with. It was something that he'd assumed he possessed simply because he'd been told he had it. Harry had fought Voldemort, and though it had terrified him, he'd still done it. He'd fought Death Eaters, had resisted the call of a Horcrux, had faced death itself – and maybe a part of Harry had indeed become convinced he was brave and courageous.

He didn't feel like he was now. In the face of a warm, loving family, chatting and at ease amongst one another as Molly began to sweep her wand in the air to coax dishes into the kitchen, he didn't feel very brave at all. Why was it so much more terrifying to face those he cared for than those he hated?

The Dursleys. Words like faggot and fairy. The frowns and sneers directed towards Timothy Sneddon at school.

And then in contrast, the words he didn't understand or only understood a little yet still left him uncomfortable. A community of people, a minority, fighting to simply be and have what every other person was freely allowed.

Harry was scared of that. He was scared of all of it. And yet before Ron's stare, he couldn't help but struggle to smile and nod a little shakily. It was the answer to the question that Ron hadn't voiced aloud.

"Who'd like dessert?" Molly announced into the hubbub. "I've got my Yule log just about ready to come out of the oven, and mince pies, and Christmas pudding with custard –"

"Is that what I've been smelling all through dinner, Molly?" Andromeda asked. "It smells divine."

"Would you like me to 'elp you, Molly?" Fleur asked, as benignly as if she hadn't almost bitten George's head off minutes before. "I am very good at zis kind of baking."

"I'll get the rest of the plates, dear," Arthur said, rising to his feet.

The table flowed into the action of stacking plates, cutlery clattering and thanks murmured as those stacks were handled between people. Harry followed suit, rising to his feet to tidy the table himself as was all but instinctive of him; even knowing magic did most of the work and even after years of living at Hogwarts, it felt strange not to help out in the kitchen.

But Ron rose too. He rose to his feet, cleared his throat, and spoke simply. "I'm not."

Everyone paused. Plates froze, suspended in the air. A single knife spun slowly on a hanging axis. Molly slowly lowered the plates she held to the table, frowning at Ron questioningly. "What's that, Ron?"

Ron seemed to struggle for a moment. He shuffled between his feet, hands picking at each another, and shot a sidelong glance at Harry once more. For someone so tall, he could make himself appear remarkably diminutive and helpless in his awkwardness.

George, whether for his intoxication or his perceptiveness, was the first to realise. Or at least the first to speak. "No way," he said in little more than a whisper. Then, louder, "No bloody way."

"George," Arthur said warningly.

"Hold on," Lee said, jumping to the conclusion George had made for him. "Ron, are you gay?"

Heads spun towards Ron. Eyes stared. Ron shuffled, then stiltedly shook his head. "No, I'd… I'd probably say I'm… I'm bi."

George slammed a hand down on the table. "Goddammit! Really, Ron?"

"Ron, what's this?" Molly asked gently. She was already bustling around the table towards him. "What's wrong?"

"There's hardly a reason to be nervous about admitting it, Ron," Charlie said. "Everyone else has had their turn."

Harry felt himself shrink slightly in place, fingers digging into the small stack of plates he'd managed to get his hands on. _Easy enough for him to say_ , he thought. He liked Charlie well enough, liked him a lot, actually, but for some people it wasn't quite so simple.

"So not a black sheep, then?" Ginny asked and dissolved into snorts. "This is hilarious."

"How did we not realise this about one another earlier?" Charlie asked.

"Or more correctly, why has it never come up before?" Bill asked.

"I object!" George said, shooting a finger at Ron. "You were out last hope. How can we pretend to be a representative family when we're all bloody queer?"

"Shut your trap, George," Ginny said. Contrary to what Harry might have expected from Ginny and Ron's constant disagreements, she seemed utterly delighted for him. "I think this is wonderful."

"It is, Ron," Molly said, patting his back soothingly. Unlike the open delight she'd shown previously, she clearly understood that something else lay unsaid. Something that made Ron uncomfortable. "What makes you so nervous? We're ecstatic to hear you've discovered a little piece of yourself."

"Mm," Ron grunted, shuffling between his feet again.

"So we're down to Harry and Hermione," George said with a long-suffering smile. Briefly pressing his fingers of his eyes, he used his other hand to fumble for his refilled glass. "Don't do me wrong now, you pair."

Hermione didn't speak. Neither did Harry. It was Ron who cast them both a glance, resting his gaze upon Harry for just a little bit longer, before swallowing audibly. "Well, actually…"

Then he held out his hand.

Harry didn't know what to do. Logically he knew it was alright, that he was allowed this, that no one would care or, if they did, that they would only be happy for him. He shouldn't have cared – but he did. He cared so much that he could feel that care thundering in his chest at a million kilometres an hour.

He shifted the plates in his grasp. He wanted to put them down, but he also didn't. He wanted to take Ron's hand, but he also couldn't. It was awkward, and scary, and –

"Here," Hermione said. Drawing her wand, she magically lifted the plates from Harry's hands. "I'll take them."

Her reprieve left nothing in the way, no barrier of the physical kind. Harry knew there was none. He understood. He was scared, but it would be okay, and he understood, and… And it was still daunting. His hand still quivered just a little, just slightly, as he accepted the offering Ron presented to him.

Stunned silence met the unspoken announcement. Stunned silence, and it was reserved entirely for Harry. For Harry and Ron. For Harry, Ron, and their clasped hands, and for the way Ron shuffled out of Molly's abruptly limp hands a little closer towards him until their shoulders bumped. Ron wasn't scared of his sexuality, wasn't scared of his feelings – but he was forced into fear because Harry was. Harry could see it in the way he watched him, his eyes wide and almost pleading, his grasp tight.

The silence hung suspended and could have lasted forever. But it didn't, of course. It broke in a sudden crack and, naturally, beneath the sharp slam of George's hand.

"Goddammit!" he all but shouted again. "This is awesome!"

"You mean you've been dating and you didn't tell me?" Ginny said, lurching from Luna's lap to her feet. "Ron, you bastard. Stealing my ex."

"How wonderful," Luna said, clasping her hands together and beaming brightly.

Charlie was laughing again. Flav was too. Arthur was chuckling, Bill was grinning, and even Fleur passed a smile in Harry's direction. Across the table, Percy's eyebrows had climbed back into his hairline, but he didn't seem disgusted. Not at all. Audrey seemed to have descended into a fit of irrepressible giggles, and Andromeda was nodding as though she approved of the entire transaction.

A glance for each of them was all Harry managed. A single glance, and then Molly was all but hauling him off his feet as she dragged both himself and Ron into her arms.

"Oh, my boys!" she blubbered, and beneath the force of her hand on the back of his head Harry only realised belatedly that she was actually crying. "I'm so happy for you both!"

"Mum," Ron's said, voice muffled. "Can't. Breathe."

"Oh, I'm so happy," Molly repeated, though she did loosen her hold slightly. When Harry managed to raise his head enough to see, he found her face a blotchy red, tears spiking her eyelashes, and a smile so wide directed at him that he couldn't look away. "My dear boys," she said again, sniffling. Then she blubbered with renewed tears once more.

Dessert was almost like a celebration. A celebration of teasing and exclamations, of congratulations given to everyone, both in relationships and otherwise. There was laughter in torrents, friendly embraces, kisses planted on cheeks, and more "I should have known"s than Harry thought he'd ever heard before. Even Hermione, perhaps the only odd one out of the 'realise yourself' admissions fest, seemed oddly content. She had always been approving of Harry and Ron's relationship, but it seemed somehow different to that.

"This is wonderful, isn't it, Harry?" she said as Molly was making an explosive mess of dishing out mountains of ice-cream, custard, and pudding. "I would never have expected anything even remotely like this from my own parents."

Harry realised he was smiling. He found himself nodding. And, even though his reply was for Hermione, he couldn't help but turn towards Ron. Ron who, even then, even while accepting a bowl of pudding from his mother and dodging away from Ginny's joking elbowing, persisted in clasping Harry's hand. He hadn't let go since he'd first grasped it earlier. It felt as though their fingers were almost fused together.

"Yeah," Harry murmured. "It really is wonderful."

* * *

The attic room was all but silent, a jarring yet peaceful contrast to the dining room. Even the distant thuds of footsteps as sleepers wandered between bathroom and bed could be readily overlooked. Harry, leaning back upon his hands with his face turned to the ceiling, closed his eyes. Being anxious was tiring. He'd never felt that kind of anxiety before, but the aftermath of it was exhausting. He thought he could have slept for a whole year until the next Christmas.

"So, Charlie's with Flav," Ron said.

Harry opened his eyes to stare at the beams directly overhead. At his side, he knew Ron still sat, his knees hooked into his elbows and toes digging gently into the side of Harry's leg. That barest contact felt somehow nice.

"Yeah," he said. "And… ace, did he say?"

"Right," Ron said.

"I still don't know what that really means," Harry admitted. "To be honest, I don't know what most of the words you've explained to me mean. It seems almost like a different language except that all of the words mean different things depending on who you're talking to."

"I guess that's kind of true," Ron said. His toes wriggled, burrowing under Harry's thigh. "I mean, I don't think that my bisexual is exactly the same as George's."

"I don't really understand that."

Ron shrugged, the movement lazy and caught only in Harry's periphery. "'S okay. You don't really have to."

It was so simple. Somehow, Ron saying it aloud made it so much simpler. _You don't have to understand it,_ Harry thought to himself, and despite the incongruity of the notion, he found it somehow soothing.

"And George is with Lee," he murmured.

"Yeah." Ron scuffed the back of his head. "You'd have thought we would have noticed, right?"

"Well, if what George says is true, they kind of got together when we were on the run."

"That's true…" Ron trailed of, humming thoughtfully before continuing. "And Ginny's with Luna."

"Yeah. So she is." Harry's mind drifted to the easy comfort of Luna hooking her arms around Ginny's waist, of how Ginny had playfully dabbed custard on Luna's nose at dessert before kissing it off. Surprisingly, as he might have expected to, it didn't bother him to think that his ex-girlfriend was not only dating someone else but dating another girl. It seemed about as irrelevant as his relationship with Ron was to Ginny.

"You're okay with that?" Ron asked lowly.

"Yeah," Harry replied immediately. "I am."

"For real?"

"Absolutely." Harry found himself smiling slightly. "They kind of fit together, right?"

Ron gave a huff of laughter that sounded more like a relieved sigh. "Yeah. I reckon they do."

"Mm."

A pause hung between them. Harry absently dropped a hand onto Ron's ankle, fingers plucking at the hem of his sock. He lowered his gaze thoughtfully. "I never would have thought that Percy –"

"And Wood?" Ron scoffed. "I know, right? Wouldn't have picked it."

"They seem completely different, don't they?"

"Like opposites."

"I wonder when that happened?"

"Shame about Audrey."

"Mm." Harry nodded, pursing his lips. It was a bit of a shame, for he'd grown to like Audrey in his few meetings with her. She was bright and bubbly in a way that seemed in direct opposition of her modest first impression. "I wonder how long it'll take before Percy's ready to bring him over."

Ron grunted. "Or how long Wood takes before he kicks his dad up the arse for being a homophobic prick." He scoffed again, but it was a different kind to that he'd uttered before. "Honestly, what a tosser."

"He's Muggle, isn't he?" Harry asked.

"That's no excuse."

"I know. But it sort of explains it." Retracting his fingers from Ron's ankle, Harry drew his legs up onto the bed and hooked his arms around his shins. He dropping his chin on top of them with a sigh. "Muggles have different opinions about sexuality and gender and stuff, Ron."

Ron was already scowling, but that scowl deepened at Harry's words. "I know. And they're stupid opinions."

"I never said they weren't."

"I swear, I'll bloody beat the crap out of the Dursleys for putting those ideas in your head if I ever see them."

Harry allowed himself a smile. Ron had become strangely protective and defensive since Harry had mentioned just how fiercely the Dursleys clung to their 'traditional' mindset. It never failed to provoke clenched teeth and glaring when mention of them arose. "Go for it," he said. "Or, better yet, let Fleur at them."

Ron's face cleared rapidly into a grin. "She's fierce, right?"

"Where do you think that came from?" Harry asked. "About the transwomen and all that?"

"No idea, but I'm so happy that she's on my side with that opinion." Ron shook his head. "She'd bloody terrifying, right?"

Harry nodded fervently. He didn't even try to deny that Fleur was, ultimately, a force to be reckoned with. She too seemed to be something of Bill's polar opposite, but it was far from being a negative thing. Like Ginny and Luna, they simply seemed to fit together. To complement one another.

"Has to make you wonder," Ron was saying, likely more to himself than to Harry. "She's always been a little weird with her Veela thing …"

"If you're thinking weird, what about your parents?"

Ron winced and Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Please. Don't."

"What? It's kind of funny."

"I don't want to think of my mum shagging a whole bunch of people."

"You don't know that they were actually shagging," Harry pointed out.

"I don't want to picture them doing anything!"

Ron was cringing so fiercely he looked about ready to crawl out of his own skin. Laughing, Harry turned towards him, crawled across the minimal space between them, and rested his chin instead upon Ron's forearm where it still hooked around his knee. "Alright," he said. "I'll stop."

Ron's wince faded quickly enough, easing into his usual crooked little smile. Without disrupting Harry's chin, he flicked the side of his head with what was more of a stroke than a prod.

"Thanks," he said.

"For what?" Harry asked.

"For everything."

Harry blinked. He straightened. Then he frowned a little sadly. It was apparent that Ron wasn't talking about him dropping the subject of his parents' sexual exploits. "You're seriously thanking me for letting you come out to your family?"

Ron's smile twitched a little. "Yeah, well…"

"And for letting you all but force me into admitting we're dating?"

Ron winced again, just slightly. "Yeah, about that…"

"And for making it the best thing in the world that I wasn't too shit-scared to agree to it." Harry cocked his head, smiling. "Ron, your family's awesome. Better than that, they didn't care a wit about you, or me, or anyone else and what they announced tonight. No, wait – they _did_ care, and it was fantastic." Harry shook his head, smile widening. "You're family's wonderful."

Ron's smile spread into a full grin. "Your family too, you know."

"Yeah," Harry said with a complacent shrug that bellied the warmth that flushed through him at the thought. "Mine too."

Ron was the one who leant across the remaining distance between them and planted a gentle kiss upon Harry's lips, but Harry was the one who wrapped his arms around him in return and pulled him closer. For a moment, he was content to lose himself in Ron's mouth, a sensation that still felt utterly new despite the time they'd been seeing one another, and revelled in the warmth that sparked from where their lips met, from where their tongue entwined languidly, and rippled down to his toes. He hadn't even realised he'd closed his eyes until Ron paused for a minute to draw back slightly, his forehead resting against Harry's. His hands were planted on either side of Harry's legs, and he didn't seem at all inclined to retreat further.

"D'you reckon we should go and say goodnight to Hermione," Ron murmured, his breath warm and dry against Harry's lips.

Harry only hummed neutrally, fingers twisting into the back of Ron's shirt.

"D'you reckon she'd want us to?"

Harry hummed again.

"Or d'you reckon… she would mind if we just left a bit longer?"

Harry met Ron's eyes, his face so close to his own, and shrugged. That seemed answer enough for Ron, and when he closed the distance between them once more, Harry was more than ready to accept it. After all, what did they really have to hide anymore?

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So, what did you think? Like it? Didn't? Please leave a review to let me know!  
> I had a whole heap of fun writing this. And there are so many possible offshoots I feel like I could pursue with each of the various characters and pairings. Please let me know if and who you'd like to see, and I'd be more than happy to try my hand at telling their story.  
> Thanks for reading!


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